


open the sky for me now

by SpiritTamer



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Author Bends the Laws of Reality for Drama, Canon Reimagine, Lab Buddies AU, M/M, Spoilers for page 90
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 02:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16568294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritTamer/pseuds/SpiritTamer
Summary: In which Strife and Parvis have a little more time.





	open the sky for me now

**Author's Note:**

> A scene imagined post page 90 of Lab Buddies, a Yogscast fancomic by fighteramy on tumblr. Spoilers, read that before checking this out! Everything from this fic is inspired by that content.
> 
> This was written *before* the page after was published, if you're reading this in the future, so this is meant to be more or less my idea of what would happen. This whole scene obviously wouldn't happen, but it's 2018 and I miss these two. So naturally I write angst. Also, the draft for this was called "voltz episode 12 part two electric boogaloo," incase you were curious...
> 
> Title is from Rubik Cube by Athlete, which I recommend listening to while reading. Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: AS I WAS SAYING, THIS WAS PUBLISHED BEFORE PAGE 91 WAS DROPPED. B E F O R E . . .

 

“ _Don’t worry about it…_ ”

 

Strife jerks his head up from his clipboard, eyes going wide, as those words form in his brain and memories flood in, shaking as he turns towards Parvis, stood on the other side of the room.

 

“What did you just say...?” He asks in panic, meeting the other’s gaze, suddenly everything making perfect sense.

 

It takes Parvis a good five seconds to break from the trance. With the last, ‘ _Don’t worry about it,_ ’ his eyes fade from a glowing red, back to their normal hue, a dull gray-blue. His expression, previously mimicking Xephos’, goes from smug satisfaction, to dawning horror, as his stare travels downward to the cardboard box in his hands.

 

“Oh my god-”

 

The beeping noise gets louder, ticking faster, and Parvis drops it with a thud on the office floor, as if he’d been burned by a hot plate. That analysis wasn’t far off from what was actually in the box, whatever kind of bomb that might be. It didn’t matter, if it was Yoglabs patented, it would be big, explosive, and deadly.

 

Strife takes a step backwards, closer to the window, swallowing hard. “ _Parvis-_ ”

 

He’d realized everything in those words, as if the last piece of the puzzle had snuggly fit into place, connecting the entire picture together. Who Xephos was, what he had done- it all _clicked_. And Strife could do something, he knew more than anyone understood, _he_ could be the one to end this.

 

The box’s ticking gets louder.

 

He doesn’t have time.

 

“Strife…” Parvis stumbles out, as if the building tension in the room was squeezing the name out of his lungs. A flash of guilt flickers through Strife, aware of how scared Parvis must be- not knowing. His heart hurts from regretting what he’s never told his employee. What he’s never said to his _friend_

 

Strife tries to say something, _anything_ , but it’s lost in the unbearably loud beeping of the explosive at their feet, speeding up till it’s one unanimous sound. He wants to scream, in frustration at his own blind view, in fear of death approaching, but nothing comes out, as the office itself lights up like a firework.

 

Parvis does what he does best- springs into action fueled by instinct, idiocy, or something else entirely. Through determination alone, he’s lunging forward in a split second, over the box and to Strife’s side of the room, throwing his arms over Strife’s shoulders, knocking both of them towards the window.

 

It’s a futile effort. They both knew they weren’t getting out of this alive. Strife appreciates it nonetheless.

 

The explosion goes off with an earth-shattering bang, both of them instantly becoming deaf in the process. The glass of the window of Strife’s office splitters into a million pieces, and they’re tumbling out the side of the Solutions Tower.

 

The world is black for a fraction of a second, and then Strife’s eyes are shooting open, the afternoon light gleaming around him.

 

Time seems to move in slow motion.

 

Strife’s surroundings are a sea of glass, the office’s debris floating above his view. Sunglasses are mixed somewhere in the mess, along with various papers and pens from his desk. It’s an oddly beautiful sight, the reflection of the glass a bright orange color. His tie has come loose from the blow too, fluttering out of his waistcoat.

 

In the midst of it all, Parvis’ is the main focus, suspended in mid air, blocking out the direct light with face, a few inches from Strife’s own. Some of the sun’s beams shine through the dark ruffles of his hair, giving it a soft glowing effect. He almost looked like an angel from this perspective.

 

His expression is something odd- not quite sad, something bittersweet, lips quirked upward just enough to be a smile. It’s forced, Strife can see it in the creases under his eyes, but there’s something comforting in the softness.

 

In the strange, timeless reality they’re falling in, Parvis reaches out his hands and _pushes_ against the air, forcing his own body closer to Strife’s, breaking the gravity around him to link fingers under the collar of Strife’s button up. Strife feels himself tugged upward, and his lips are meeting Parvis’, head tilting slightly to match each others forms, as if it was something they’d done a thousand times before.

                                                  

Strife’s arms stretch upward, one tangling in Parvis’ hair, the other resting on his back, brushing the tattered scarf around his neck. The pair’s forms become one, locking together, both completely alone in the patch of sky outside the tower.

 

Like this, Strife distantly wonders if anyone in the streets below can see them, embracing like lost lovers, a tiny speck in The Server’s skyline. Silhouettes outlined in front of the backdrop of the building.

 

Out of spite, he hopes Xephos is watching from somewhere, fists clenched at his side in anger, seeing Strife manage to make his last moments enjoyable. It’s a pyrrhic victory, of sorts, but a victory nonetheless.

 

The thought is fleeting, too distracted by Parvis’ stubble brushing against his chin, legs entangled with his, as their forms become vertical, and they start leaning down.

 

Reality kicks back in, the faux slow motion effect rushing out of their minds, and time speeds up to normal again. Wind rushes around them, the only thing keeping Strife and Parvis together being their own grip on each other.

 

It feels like they’re falling too long, for a moment. As if they’ve passed all the building’s stories at this point- should be hitting the ground by now, everything feels too long. Maybe it’s denial, or maybe things were happening so fast in their descent, nothing felt real.

 

Maybe this was it- what everyone ever wondered what came after passing- they’d be falling in each others arms forever, and death was eternally the moments before. Or, this was all a dream, and Strife would wake up once more, as if the last day never even happened.

 

Then their entwined bodies are plummeting into the city’s pavement with a splattering  _crack_ , and everything ends.


End file.
